


blood, lion, heart, wolf

by snowdarkred



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Blackmail, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Drabble Collection, Female Characters, Feminist Themes, Gen, Multi, POV Female Character, Politics, Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-26
Updated: 2012-03-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowdarkred/pseuds/snowdarkred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>four Game of Thrones/ASOIAF ficlets for four different prompts</p>
            </blockquote>





	blood, lion, heart, wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Four drabbles written over the last few days, some AU and some not -- but only barely.

**blood fighter [** [ **x** ](http://charleswhatnow.livejournal.com/2965.html?thread=23957#t23957) **]**

Prompt: _Daenerys, i am not your little princess_

 

With blood under her nails and in her hair, she bares her teeth like an animal. The soldiers draw back from her, spooked, and she rises to her feet like a goddess from the earth. There’s something in her eyes that frightens them, and she knows what it is.

“I’m not a _princess_ ,” she spits. Blood under her fingernails and in her hair and in her teeth and in the fire of her words. She growls like an animal too, like a dragon made woman. “I am the Khaleesi, I am the rightful Queen, and you will kneel or die.”

The soldiers look at her, terrified, and one by one they drop to their knees. Blood runs over her wrists and down her fingers as she marks them, one by one, as hers.

 

\---

 

**Lion and Wolf [** [ **x** ](http://charleswhatnow.livejournal.com/2965.html?thread=20373%23t20373) **]**

Prompt: _Cersei/Ned, lions and wolves make for strange bedfellows_

 

The bedroom is a battle as bloody as any trampled field or grassy plain. Cersei learned this when her own blood was shed, from her wrists and her mouth and her cunt. The bedroom is a torture chamber, a deadly game of chess played on sheets and pillows, and whoever won sat on the throne with a thousand swords against their skin.

Cersei conquers her bedroom the same way she conquers everything. She is a Lannister, and a queen, and she will bow to no one. Not her foolish brute of a husband, not that gritty northern bitch, and certainly not Ned Stark. 

Her body is blunt instrument, and her mind is a sharp blade, and when she uses them together, she cuts Ned Stark down and slays him. She lays him low and takes him. He’s hers now, bound by shame and adultery. She has him in her bed, in her claws, in her carefully woven trap.

Men are all the same. They are easily manipulated with lust and drink, easily swayed by naked flesh and the flush of sweetened wine. Cersei plays the game of thrones well, and Ned Stark plays not at all. Men are all the same, and one day they will all bow to her and her sons and her daughters with the respect and fear the Lannisters deserve.

At least in the bedroom, where the true battle is fought and won. 

Ned Stark stirs beside her, and she smiles as if she has a mouth full of daggers -- full and bloody. He’s hers, now. Her very own caged wolf.

 

\---

 

**Home Is Where the Red Heart Beats [** [ **x** ](http://charleswhatnow.livejournal.com/2965.html?thread=33941%23t33941) **]**

Prompt: _Young Viserys and Danny - on the nights she can't sleep, he lets her crawl into his bed and tells her the stories of their home._

_  
_

Viserys is young, but Dany is younger, and when she comes to him in the night, crying, he shifts aside. He only moves a little, because it’s his bed, but she’s a small thing. She fits in beside him, and he wraps his arms around her fragile frame. His little sister, so pale and delicate. His.

“Tell me of home,” she whispers to his ribs. 

He doesn’t remember much, not really. He was five when he and his sister were smuggled to safety. All he has are tales, rumors and the shroud of his imagination. He wants to keep his memories to himself, grasped tightly in his long white hands. 

But she’s his, and the Seven Kingdoms are his, and the two should be married to him, and to each other.

“Home isn’t some house with a red door,” Viserys tells her. “Home is across the sea, a land of castles and ladies and dragon bones. Not savages like these barbarians in this hellhole. Home is an iron throne wrought of swords and painted with blood. The blood of our enemies and the blood of our ancestors. Our blood, shed protecting our birthright from a brute of an Usurper.” 

Dany squirms until she can look up into his face. Her big eyes shine in the moonlight, looking for a moment as if they were burning from within. She blinks, and the moment passes.

“But I like the house with the red door,” she says in a small voice. “Can’t that be home too?”

He runs his fingers through her long silver hair before grabbing a fist-full and yanking until she yelps.

“Home,” he snarls at her, “is whatever I say it is.”

He releases her and pants for a moment, letting the dragon-hot rage cool in his stomach. He reaches out and pulls her close to him, gently. He strokes her hair until she relaxes into him, and then it’s like nothing ever happened.

“We’re going to take back our home,” he says. “We’re going to take back our iron throne of swords. I swear it, on the blood of dragons.”

 

\---

 

**the wolf queen [** [ **x** ](http://anythingbutgrey.livejournal.com/808309.html?thread=15432565%23t15432565) **]**

Prompt: _sansa + joffrey | sansa marries joffrey and becomes queen of the seven kingdoms_

_  
_

 

The gods are cruel, and fate is wicked. The weight of the crown is heavy, but not as heavy as Cersei’s glare. Sansa is far from the north now, far from the forthright savageness of her father’s hall. Here, they play with a different kind of savagery, one that hides behind pretty smiles and smooth lies.

At least once every sevenday, Sansa walks through the streets. Her husband the King is loathed by the people -- for being wicked, for being cruel, for being eager to levy taxes and shed blood for the privilege. Joffrey is hated and feared, but Sansa is loved. 

She does not have the court on her side, so she must claim the people instead.

She’s young and pretty, and she gives coin as freely as she can get away with it. They call her the Wolf Daughter, the Wolf Queen. Here, among the filthy streets of the capitol, she is more her father’s daughter than she ever was in Winterfell. There are those at court who are kind to her, not because she is the King’s unwilling wife, but because they _look_ and they _see_ that she is met with genuine trust and admiration.They see the game she plays, and they fear her for it. 

She wins the people’s loyalty, so that when the time comes to put down her monster husband, she’ll have an army at her back. A pack.

Just as a Wolf Queen ought.


End file.
